


Electric Worry

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Amnesia, Angst, Drama, Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-29
Updated: 2010-09-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:04:39
Rating: Teen & Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Sam wakes up one morning to find he's no longer a hunter and he's dating his brother. He thinks it's a djinn, but it might be something much darker than that. Psychological horror.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

Sam Winchester woke up to the sound of a blender grating away, eyes flickering open as he rubbed at his face absently. It was bright in the room, light streaming in through the windows, and Sam, accustomed to the drawn blinds of dingy hotel rooms, looked around, eyes widening slightly. This was not the Knight's Inn he had fallen asleep in the night before; this was a middle-class home, with beige carpets meeting hardwood floors, a flatscreen television, and a throw blanket on the back of the couch.

 

He sat up immediately, staring around the room before his eyes focused on his brother, Dean standing in the kitchen with Toto blasting away on the radio, poking at the pink contents of the blender with a spoon, lips pursed in thought. Sam stared at him for a moment or two; there was something definitely different about the older man, and it wasn't the fact that he was wearing a pair of Calvin Klein boxers and a Stanford hoodie.

 

"Dean?" Sam started, sliding off the couch and looking around, confusion etched on his face. He glanced down at himself; he wasn't wearing any clothes he recognized, instead dressed in a pair of navy sweats and a wifebeater, eyes widening slightly. "Dude, where are we?"

 

Dean blinked, looking at the other man and cocking a head to one side, licking his lips and grinning. "What do you mean? 104 Jericho Way, Lawrence, Kansas. Ring a bell? Lived here for four years, babe; I don't think we're changing addresses anytime soon."

 

"What? I don't…" Sam froze, hands going to his hair as he stared at Dean. "Did you just call me babe?"

 

"Yeah," Dean said, obviously teasing. "Why? You don't like it?"

 

"No, I don't."

 

"Then I'll keep calling you it," Dean said, nodding and pouring the contents of the blender into a pair of glasses.

 

Sam shook his head, looking around in complete and total confusion. "What's going on?"

 

"Well, I'm making breakfast and I'm about to go take a shower. And you have work in thirty minutes. So I'd take the smoothie, if I were you, and stop acting like you have a hangover because I was with you all night last night and you only had one beer." Dean took a sip of his smoothie, walking around the counter and leaning up, kissing Sam slowly on the mouth and smiling against his lips.

 

Sam froze, his whole body going tense before he reacted in what seemed to be the best possible way at the time, drawing his fist back and immediately punching his brother in the face. Dean reeled, yanking away and covering his nose, blood beginning to seep through his fingers as he stared at Sam, eyes wide. "What the fuck was that for, Sammy?"

 

"Don't call me that! What the fuck is going on, Dean? Why are you kissing me?"

 

"You're my boyfriend!" Dean pulled his hands away from his face, looking pissed off. "I wasn't fucking aware that I couldn't kiss you all of a sudden! What's wrong with you, Sam?"

 

Sam stared, mouth working for a few moments soundlessly before he shook his head. "No! No, no, no! You're my brother! I'm not gay, I'm not in a relationship with you… You're my goddamn brother!"

 

"Sam!" Dean shook his head, grabbing a few sheets of paper towel in order to stem the steady drip of blood from his nose, staring up at the younger man and looking offended. "We met at Stanford six years ago. You were a freshman, I was a senior. We started dating on October 31st four years ago and moved in together last January. Are you high or something? Why don't you remember this?"

 

"I went to bed last night in some crappy little motel in Missouri after eating Chinese takeout with you, my older brother, and I wake up in fucking Lawrence and you're kissing me and you have your fucking hair combed to the side like a friggin' Hardy Boy or something, and you're making smoothies! What happened to Skittles for breakfast, Dean?" Sam looked sincerely afraid, as though he was working himself up even more with every word coming from his mouth. "You're not my boyfriend, okay? You're my fucking brother!"

 

Dean stared at him, nosebleed forgotten for the moment before he frowned, mouth set in a thin line. "If you want to break up with me, okay. All right. I don't know why, but okay, I'm cool with that. But this… are you so much of a pussy you can't just break up with me? I'm not your brother, Sammy. Just don't fucking do this to me. Don't make it any more fucking humiliating than it has to be."

 

"I'm not breaking up with you," Sam said stiffly, shaking his head and sitting down on the couch, pressing his hands to his face. "Look, let me just… hold on."

 

"You have work in thirty minutes."

 

"I'm not fucking going to work." Sam shook his head, swallowing and curling up over himself, staying that way for a few moments as he attempted to sort things out. "I don't even know where I work. I don't know who I am. You're not going to work either; you're going to stay home and help me work this shit out because if you're my 'boyfriend' or whatever, then you've got to fucking help me, man."

 

Dean stared at him before nodding slowly, walking back into the kitchen and picking up the phone, dialing the number to Sam's work and calling him in before doing the same for his own job, walking back over and sitting on the coffee table, splaying his hands out. "Look, Sam, I love you, okay, but if you're all coked out or something, I need to know so I can help you."

 

"Dean." Sam sighed, running a hand back through his hair and shaking his head. "You… this isn't real. Okay, well, it could be, but I'm not your Sam. I'm a different one."

 

Dean simply stared at the other man before nodding slowly, looking confused. "Okay, Sammy, I'm going to go and call an ambulance. There's something wrong with you."

 

Sam sighed, reaching out and grabbing the other man's hand, ignoring the feeling that immediately raced up his spine; he might not have been the Sam that this Dean knew, but there was obviously some lingering feelings from the guy who was dating Dean. "Don't. Dean, please just sit down and listen to me. It's gonna sound crazy but if you love me… him… then you'll listen."

 

Dean blinked and then sat back down, looking at Sam. "All right, Sammy. Go. Explain it to me. Please. Explain to me why you've suddenly gone batshit insane because I really want to know."

 

"Okay." Sam swallowed, trying to get his words together and then looking at Dean steadily. "I fell asleep last night and you were my brother. I woke up this morning and you were my lover. And… it's freaking me out, okay? Like… I don't know where I am, or if I'm even in my universe still…" He trailed off, licking his lips and then looking back up. "I think… it might be a djinn but… they give you what you want most. And I'm not gay."

 

The two men simply stared at one another for a few minutes and then Dean bit his lower lip, arching an eyebrow. "So you're saying you're a doppelganger?"

 

"I'm saying I'm a different person than the Sam you know."

 

"And I'm about five thousand percent sure you're stoned right now, Sammy. Come on." Dean got up, walking over to Sam and pulling at his arms. "Get up, big guy. Let's take a shower, get you calmed down."

 

"Dean!" Sam smacked at his brother's hands, shaking his head and grabbing Dean by the biceps, shaking him slightly. "Look at me. Just look, okay? First off, I'm definitely not showering with you. Second off, I'm not stoned. I'm normal, okay? I don't do drugs. I'm not like that. Third off, I'm telling you the truth. I'm not a very good liar, especially not to you. Please, just listen for once!"

 

"You're not making sense," Dean said, looking anxious. "So I apologize for trying to be fucking rational about this, because that's what a normal person would do. My boyfriend of four years is freaking out over something that I don't understand, so sorry I'm not taking it well."

 

"Look. You know genies?"

 

"Yes. Like the lamp-dwelling things?"

 

Sam nodded, continuing to hold Dean in place. "Kind of. They're djinns. They feed off people while they're in this coma-like thing, making them think they've got whatever their greatest desire is. I think one has me. We have to find it and kill it."

 

Dean stared up at Sam and then shook his head, managing to pry himself out of the taller man's grip. "Okay, let's say you're this… alternate universe Sam. And you're in this dream fantasy… you can't expect me to believe your fantasy would be to live a sweet little domestic life with your brother as your lover."

 

Sam didn't reply automatically; he knew it was fucked up but the week he had spent as Sam Wesson instead of Sam Winchester, the time he had spent with Dean Smith and the way he had felt about his older brother… it had been right, and amazing, and he thought about it more than he'd like to admit. This suburban lifestyle probably wasn't too far off from what he wanted most of all. He shrugged a bit, looking at Dean and swallowing, running a hand back through his hair. "I don't know. I don't. I just… I need your help. I'll get your Sam back; I just need to get back to my brother. So please. Help me."

 

Silence permeated the house and then Dean nodded, grabbing his jacket and glancing at Sam. "I know someone who might be able to help. I'm trusting you, Sammy; I still think you're high off your ass."

 

"Thanks, I guess," Sam murmured, looking over his shoulder and then glancing back at Dean, watching the older man run to the bedroom. He paused for a moment, waiting, and Dean came running back a few moments later, tugging on a pair of jeans before grabbing the keys to his car and tugging Sam out of the home.

 

The younger Winchester was confused out of his mind, and as he followed Dean out to the Impala, the car a welcome sight, he bit his lower lip, looking around. He hated this shit. He needed to get it over and done with before he went insane.


End file.
